


In The Ring

by Soaring_Ren (Robin_Knight)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Branding, Established Relationship, First Time, Gladiators, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Knight/pseuds/Soaring_Ren
Summary: It was tough acting as gladiators in the ring . . . It was made easier by a bet that could have only winners.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wan17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wan17/gifts).



Shiro cried out in pain.

The branding iron moved slowly across his face; it touched him with a surprising firmness, so that he noticed the pressure before he noticed the pain, but then the white-hot sensation shot through his nerves and caused a pain unlike any other. It consumed him. He clenched hard upon the stone arms of the chair, until knuckles paled and fingertips ached, and he began to pant with heavy breaths of exertion and desperation. The pain continued. He screamed.

It continued on, just past his nose. Sendak was marking him. The long line would blister and boil, until eventually it would burst and flatten, and – once the skin dried and flaked off, much like an old scab – it would leave a long and silvery line. That line would mark him as belonging to another. Shiro felt a sweat break over his forehead, as the iron made its way to the end of the line, and he swallowed hard to hold back his moans of discomfort. It was only when the iron pulled away that borderline agony turned into a dull throb, an ache that caused him to groan in frustration, as he felt his heartbeat pulse within the wound.

There was a low sizzle, as the iron was thrown into ice-cold water. Shiro let his hands collapse by his sides, too tired and too pained to fight any longer, while he fell back into the stone chair with deep breaths to centre himself. He could smell the burnt flesh; it reminded him too much of his childhood, where they would visit ranches in the States, and holidays spent listening to cowboys and riding horses and the smell as cows were branded. It was easy to feel more like an animal than a person in this place . . . in Zarkon’s Empire.

“All this for an eye?” Shiro teased.

He looked across the small cell to Sendak. The older man had foregone all clothing in his private space, so that every inch of fur over thick and muscular muscles could be seen, and Shiro – hating himself for having fallen for the enemy – bit his lip to fight away intrusive thoughts about he had betrayed comrades in the labour colony. He caught a strong and masculine scent from Sendak, whose fur collected sweat and various particles, and today it was matted with blood in places, which would require a great deal of grooming later on.

Sendak had his back to Shiro, as he poked at the coal fires. There were privileges that came from being an obedient Galra, enough that – should he defeat Shiro in the upcoming battle – he could earn himself a position as commander for Zarkon. It was an honour. Sendak valued self-preservation above all else, while he despised the necessity for killing as a gladiator, and Shiro believed that Sendak would not have killed, were it not his life on the line.

“What would you have done had I taken an arm?”

Shiro teased, but a part of him knew the answer. Sendak may have loved him, but this was a man that loved freedom alone more than slavery together, and he would be sure to reciprocate any violence with equal violence, so that he could win and assume a position as a leader as opposed to a follower. In time he would either take Shiro as an official consort, sparing him from the horrors of the ring, or Shiro would escape using his own intelligence and initiative, freeing him choosing between two forms of slavery. Shiro gave a low sigh.

“Our match was a draw,” said Shiro. “Who wins the bet?”

The burn across his face ached. It caused Shiro to hiss, as he leaned forward in his chair and looked about the room, and – as usual – he cursed the low and violet lighting so common among the Galra ships. The furniture was sparse, with just one stone bed to match the one stone chair, and a few bowls filled with cured and dried meats, which were more suited to a Galra diet than a human one. Shiro clenched his fists, as he tried to ignore the stinging and tingling sensation of his burn, and – as he reached to touch it – Sendak called in a deep voice:

“Do not touch that, Champion.”

“I’m only allowed a few hours in your cell, Sendak,” said Shiro. “We had a bet and I want to know what happens now . . . I scarred your face, you scarred mine . . . I’d like to think – even if this relationship isn’t ideal – it’s at least a relationship of _equals_. So . . . who wins?”

“One could argue that we both lost.” Sendak continued to stoke the fire. “If neither man wins, neither man gets his prize, unless – of course – one takes an alternative position. If both won the match earlier this evening, we can both get our rewards like the deserving gladiators that we have proven ourselves to be . . . does this outcome suit you, Champion?”

Shiro smiled in spite of his pain. The two of them had found great sexual relief in one another, avoiding propositions from soldiers and prisoners alike, and since Sendak had been marked as his ‘mate’ – and now Shiro as Sendak’s in turn – they were free to explore their sexual natures in more depth. Shiro felt dirty at the realisation Sendak could take him, penetrating him in a manner no other man had attempted, but he also felt a swell of arousal and pride that stood at odds with his fears and self-disgust. He both wanted it and avoided it.

The seat beneath him was uncomfortable, nearly as much as the bed, but he noticed that Sendak had earned some oil to go with his food, along with some furred blankets. The fur was from Sendak’s previous opponent. It was a sickening reminder of their mortality, but also the blood that would never wash from their hands, and Shiro – as his stomach churned and nausea rose – wondered how Sendak endured sleeping upon the remains of a dead man.

“I take you and you take me,” observed Shiro. “Anyone would think you _planned_ for this to end in a draw, Sendak. This way we get to experience double the pleasure, have double the memories, and get double the fun. Our last night together . . . I won’t get to leave my old cell, once you’re a commander. I’ll be just a prisoner again . . . unless you want me as a consort?”

“No, Champion. I have thought further ahead than you realise.” Shiro detected a faint chuckle, before Sendak continued: “You will throw the match to me, yes? I want you to take my arm before you lose. Take it. Make it a clean cut and make it deep. I will be forced to take your arm in turn to win the battle, providing you with a visit to the Druids . . . this is a gamble, but I suspect they will provide you with a prosthetic, so you can continue to fight.”

“Yeah, Lord forbid they lose their champion.” Shiro clenched his hands into fists. “You want me to lose my arm? You want me to get a _prosthetic_? What the hell good is that, Sendak? This is our last night together before the battle, but you want to talk about –”

“They will not let me take you as a consort.”

Shiro felt his stomach churn one more. It was enough to nearly double him over, as he tried to catch his breath and felt the start of a panic attack, but he caught himself at the last moment, preventing the anxiety from crossing over into something that could not be controlled. The idea of continuing as a gladiator was unbearable; he fought so those like Matt would not have to fight, but he knew those on Earth would never forgive his actions. He said in a quiet voice:

“What?”

There was a strange noise from Sendak, almost like a purr. The older man turned around, revealing a broad chest and an alien member, one which was often difficult to swallow and painful to lick. It was short and stout, at first glance, so that it looked almost childlike with a size barely worth mentioning, and testicles that were so large that Shiro sometimes wondered how walking could not be uncomfortable for the Galra. He knew the member would be impressive once it became erect; it could grow to a size enviable for any human, also covered in small barbs that covered his length like clawed fingers. Shiro licked his lips in anticipation.

“This is our last time together,” said Sendak. “Ever.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Tonight we will create beautiful memories.” Sendak smirked. “Tomorrow we will fight, where you shall take my arm and I shall take yours. After that -? I shall be free, finally, and you shall have the technology upon your arm to open locks that _only_ open to the Galra. You have memorised the guards’ route already, yes? You have memorised the layout?”

“You – You want me to escape, don’t you? Even if I get back to Earth, there’s no way that anyone will believe me . . . I won’t be able to save my planet, and I might not be able to find you again in order to rescue you. I might not even get back to my planet.”

“Let us deal with that when the time comes, but for now -?”

“Now you want me to make good on my deal.”

Shiro gave a nervous smile. He looked down to the hands on his lap, which were far more callused and coarse from the months – perhaps years – spent in constant battle, and he felt a stab of sickness at the idea he could lose something that made him so human. The Druids were prone to alien experiments, creating ‘prosthetics’ and ‘enhancements’ that barely resembled their natural originals, and he feared becoming more like them . . . more alien.

This would be their last night together; it was a fact that made arousal more difficult, as desire gave way for grief and fear, but he saw how Sendak walked towards him – hips swaying and member swinging – and realised how deep his affection ran. Sendak stopped a few inches from him; the barbed length was close enough to take into his mouth with a mere leaning forward, which was a temptation that he could barely resist. The member began to grow erect, as it increased rapidly in size, reminding Shiro of the horses upon the ranch.

It seemed impossible something so large could come from something so small, but soon that length grew to be approximately twice as wide in girth as Shiro, as well as approximately five or so inches long, and – in girth alone – it would be a difficult adjustment. The girth always made his jaw ache during oral sex, while the flared head often triggered his gag reflex, and those barbs that ran over the soft skin could occasionally cause pain.

“You take me and I take you,” said Sendak.

Shiro could not look him in the eye. The barbs were curled in a strange manner, so the pointed tips almost curled onto the length itself, and they were numerous enough to cover every part of his length in an almost symmetrical pattern. It was clear they enhanced pleasure for Sendak, whose length – surprisingly free from the fur elsewhere on his body – was supposedly average size for his race, and often he argued that the barbs added pleasure for his partners in turn. Shiro had never the heart to ask how many found pleasure that way.

“I’m human,” whispered Shiro. “It won’t fit.”

“The Galra have taken creatures like you before,” admitted Sendak.

“I know better than to trust you.” Shiro gave a teasing smirk. “You promised me that oral sex wouldn’t be unlike with a human; I swear I was coughing up fur balls for a week, after taking you to the root. Are all Galra covered in double the pubic ‘hair’? It’s bad enough to deep throat at the best of times, let alone when I have to worry about fur in my teeth.”

“You are trying to antagonise me, Champion. We will take one another as planned; you will feel no pain, only pleasure, and I will make sure no damage is done. You will take me first, Shiro. My refractory period is far quicker than yours, I will take you while you are sated.”

“‘Sated’? You mean too fucked out to complain, I assume.”

“You assume well,” teased Sendak.

Sendak knelt down before him, as he reached up to touch his collar. The pads of his fingers were soft, yet somewhat rough to the touch, a strange contrast that reminded Shiro of the paws of the dogs at his grandparents’ home. They traced patterns about his neck, pausing when they reached the love-bites that warned off any other from propositioning him, before they pulled down his body suit and stopped only when they reached his waist. Shiro licked his lips and lifted his hips. The suit was pulled off completely, thrown to join his crop top.

Their clothes landed upon the bed, on top of the furs, and would – once the time came for Shiro to be taken – provide some insulation to his bare body and some cushion to the stone, so that he would avoid the cold or pressure to his body. It felt good to be naked before Sendak; he could feel the warmth from the fire upon his flesh, as well as the soft – almost ticklish – sensations from his lover’s fur. He wanted more. He wanted intimacy.

“You’re going to . . . _you know_ . . . here?” Shiro asked.

There was a look of frustration upon Sendak. It was impossible for him to roll his eyes as such, due to a lack of pupils and irises, but – were he human – it would have been apparent that those same eyes would have rolled at his question. Sendak ran his padded fingers up and down Shiro’s legs, where he took his usual amusement in the coarse hair that coated his lower limbs, and then he turned his eyes gaze to Shiro’s erection.

Shiro knew the stereotypes about his size well; he had been teased abroad with a frustrating sense of routine, even on occasion as an adult by fellow instructors, but the fact was that he had always been somewhat well endowed. The erection was approximately the same length as Sendak, while it’s girth – for a human – was enough for another to feel more than full, and he stood uncut and with a slight curve, so that the weeping head touched upon his stomach just underneath his bellybutton. Sendak licked his lips and looked up to Shiro.

“You talk as if you were a virgin,” teased Sendak.

“If I were, I certainly wouldn’t tell you.” Shiro bit his lip and nodded to the bowls. “You have oil, right? I need to prepare you. I won’t let you do anything, not if it will cause you pain or put you at a disadvantage for tomorrow. Do you want to prepare yourself or –?”

“You know as well as I do that my kind self-lubricates.”

“Yeah, but I thought – _shit, not just yet_!”

Sendak took Shiro to the very root. It brought Shiro immense pleasure; those fanged teeth would occasionally trace light patterns across the skin, close enough to provide an element of danger and far enough to provide a sense of safety, and that tongue – rough like sandpaper – moved softly enough to prevent any real discomfort. This was like no oral sex a human could provide. Shiro spread his legs out of instinct, while his hands came down to grip into the thick fur of his lover’s head. He struggled to remember about Sendak’s biology.

It was true he self-lubricated, as Shiro learnt that well enough through many sessions fingering his lover until he came long and hard, but it never quite felt enough to allow penile penetration without some damage. Another thought came to Shiro, that self-lubrication was a strange thing for the male of the species to need, as well as the fact that he could not recall ever seeing a female Galra, unless those Druids – like Haggar – _were_ the females. He asked:

“Do – Do we need . . . protection?”

Shiro threw back his head. It hurt to strike upon stone wall, but it was beyond his control. He began to pant with increasing arousal, as the tingling sensation spread from groin to the rest of his body, and he could feel the familiar flush to his chest and face. Shiro curled his toes, as he gripped tighter upon his lover, until he was soon reduced to twisting and turning beneath that alien tongue. He gave a mournful cry when Sendak pulled away, revealing plump and swollen lips that were wet with saliva and pre-come. He looked fuckable, as Sendak asked:

“You mean like human contraception?”

“D-Don’t stop,” begged Shiro.

Sendak gave a short growl, as he pinched Shiro’s thigh. The gesture was enough to bring a sharp pain that cut back the arousal, just enough to clear his head and realise he needed to listen, and he swallowed hard and reached down to grip his length. It was a strong enough grip to stave off a possible orgasm and some arousal, as he used the moment to draw in deep breaths and stare hard at the ceiling. It was only when he calmed himself that Sendak spoke in his familiar and deep voice. The reply he gave was not what Shiro expected.

“Contraception is not a luxury afforded to gladiators,” admitted Sendak. “I will simply ask that you tell me when your orgasm is close; I will remove myself from you, thus negating the need for contraception. It is not ideal, but it is the best we have in this situation.”

“Could – Could we even . . . conceive? Our genetics are too –”

“Let’s not leave anything to chance, Takashi.”

Sendak stood before Shiro. The barbed member leaked pre-come at an astounding rate, so that the entire length looked wet with liquid, and Shiro – distracted by the impressive sight of his lover – barely noticed when Sendak knelt above him. It was an awkward movement. Sendak began by sitting with feet either side of Shiro’s hips, until he used the back of the chair to brace his weight and threw his legs over the arms of the chair.

A hand came low to take a hold of Shiro’s length; it was a testament to Sendak’s strength, as his other limbs took on the full force of his weight, before he placed his waiting hole above Shiro’s member for the first time. It felt warm and wet. It was unlike that of a woman, for it provided more initial resistance and the taste was often stronger, but it also was unlike anything Shiro could imagine on another man. Sendak moved his hand back to where it lay before, as he gradually sank to the hilt and took in Shiro so that all was sheathed.

The groan from Sendak was deeply erotic. He gave a sound between a growl and a purr, as he arched his back and let his hands fall to grip upon Shiro’s shoulders, where those sharp claws – sharp enough to tear flesh from bone – cut deep crescents into his flesh. There was a sensation that was warm, like blood down his back, while he felt the burn on his nose give an ache of pain in commiseration, but somehow the pain only added to his arousal.

“You’re so tight,” hissed Shiro.

Sendak was warm around him, while the natural ridges inside added to the friction, and he was tight – far tighter than expected when it had been just fingers – and the pressure was a beautiful mixture of pain and pleasure. Shiro pulled Sendak down, so that they could press their lips together for a kiss. It was intimate. It was gentle. The kiss itself was filled with affection that bordered on something deeper, a complete contrast to the animalistic thrusts.

It was far from what Shiro expected. Sendak moved himself up and down with great skill, each time lifting so the head nearly left him entirely, until he would fall back with a slapping sound of testicles upon flesh, as he gave loud grunts of pleasure. Shiro struggled to maintain the kiss, too focused on the ecstasy that coursed through him, while he wrapped his arms deep into the fur of his lover and pulled him flush against him, and – as Shiro felt his body come alive with the various sensations – he felt a sweat break over his body.

“N-Not long,” murmured Shiro. “Not long.”

Shiro reached a hand between them, as he took his lover’s length within his fingers. It was difficult to reach with so little space, while kisses now became nothing more than licks and bites, as each were too distracted to maintain any kiss for long, and Shiro relished in how strangely cool the erect member felt against his palm. The pre-come made his skin slick, as well as the skin against his chest sticky and uncomfortable, and the barbs upon the flesh aggravated the skin on his hand, creating a raw rash and making him ache.

The sensation was enough to bring Sendak to the edge. Those inner walls began to flutter and clench around Shiro with an unnerving speed, while the natural lubrication increased so much that every thrust brought with it a squelching sound, and Sendak struggled for breath, as his length wept pre-come and throbbed in a telling manner against Shiro’s hand. In a matter of seconds, Sendak climaxed with a painful and deafening scream of pleasure.

“Fuck,” cried Shiro. “Coming. Coming!”

He could barely hold back. Those walls clenched tight upon him, while there came a gush of liquid around his length that spoke of an internal orgasm, and then came the flood of come against his chest and Sendak’s fur, which meshed together in a strange sensation. The pleasure was unlike anything he could stand, until he was forced to try and stave off his orgasm, right on the brink, as Sendak refused to move off his erection. Too close.

“ _Coming_!”

Shiro began to punch against Sendak’s shoulder, as the older man seemed to come down from his climax, but it was too late to stop his orgasm. Shiro came. He threw back his head and let his mouth open wide, as he gave a silent scream, and – as he felt his erection pump, his come flooding out in long streams – Sendak finally lifted off from him with a curse word in what sounded like his native tongue. Shiro let go of Sendak’s length to grab his own, pumping hard and fast as he rode out his orgasm, letting come cover his lover’s buttocks.

The afterglow hit with a massive relief. It washed over him with a sense of perfection, so that every muscle in his body relaxed at once, and he could hear the racing of his heart deep in his ears, so every beat sounded like a drum. He tried to watch as Sendak stood, with eyes half-lidded and pupils dilated, but he was unable to focus through the haze of pleasure, especially when he felt moderately dehydrated and drenched in sweat and bodily fluids.

“I – I’m sorry,” gasped Shiro. “Did any – did any get inside?”

He watched as Sendak moved by the fire; a small bowl of water sat close to the food, likely intended for nourishment and not for cleansing the flesh, but Sendak knelt in a way that was borderline pornographic and borderline medical, as he used the water to clean his insides. He reached in to scoop out what come there could be found, before he would wipe it upon his buttocks where the other streams hit, and – with a seeming discomfort – he gave a wince as he searched around for any that was missed. The member was now small and deflated.

“I am sure it will be fine,” said Sendak.

Shiro bit his lip in concern. He knew that he should have insisted on contraception or abstinence, but the chances of conception were slim to none, considering how he mainly came outside of the body and their genetics were so extremely different. The thoughts soon left his mind when Sendak came over and helped him to his feet, with a half-embrace that was enough to bring a smile to Shiro’s face. There was little reason to wash away the fluids, not when they intended to continue with the evening. Shiro gave a sigh of contentment.

There was a heavy scent of sex in the air, made worse by how the fur captured scents of arousal and exertion far more than skin alone ever could, and yet Shiro relished the intimacy it brought. He wanted more. Sendak – with surprising gentleness – brought him over to the bed and laid him down upon the furs, as he swept away the clothing so that he could ball it beneath Shiro’s head to provide him with a makeshift pillow, a small comfort.

It was good to feel the furs against him, but he soon realised that the throw was designed as a decorative and commemorative item, as the Galra fur provided a great deal of insulation, and a part of Shiro – still so human, despite the crimes he had committed – felt a shred of guilt that soon the throw would be spoiled by their sexual acts. He could have easily fallen asleep with the heavy afterglow from sex, but instead he watched as Sendak spread his legs apart and pushed them upward until feet were touching just upon his buttocks.

“I’ll need to be prepared,” said Shiro.

Sendak gave a grunt of frustration, as he marched across the room. There was a rattle of the wooden bowls, until Sendak found the ones filled with oil and brought it back across the room, where it was settle just next to Shiro’s right hip. Shiro was far from erect, still flaccid and unable to grow hard so soon, but he could see that his lover was hard already, large and wide enough to cause Shiro to second-guess what they were about to attempt. The length was no threat at all, but he worried the large girth would tear him inside.

“Your species is far too impractical in design,” observed Sendak.

“Our men don’t exactly need to self-lubricate,” said Shiro. “We also don’t stretch so easily, because we were never intended to bear any young. Just look on the bright side, Sendak; we might need longer foreplay and prep-work, but you’ll get one hell of a grip.”

Sendak let loose a low laugh. He ran his padded fingers up and down Shiro’s legs, where he paused to trace patterns and lines along the creases of his limbs, before he licked his lips and bared his fangs in a dangerous display. Shiro half-suspected that preparation would be easier on his side or back, but Sendak – knelt between his legs and eyes fixated upon his buttocks – seemed completely hypnotised by the vision before him. It felt cruel to deny him that.

Shiro spread his legs as wide as he could manage, while he grasped his ankles in his hands. It was no longer embarrassing to be exposed in such a manner, especially when he knew how much Sendak treasured the sight, and he felt a shiver of anticipation on sight of Sendak with a furred finger covered in oil. The older man had trimmed the claws on his left hand, so that he would not harm Shiro whenever he fingered him, and Shiro knew from experience – as the cuts upon his shoulders stopped bleeding – that was a blessing of which to be thankful.

The first finger soon teased at his hole. He lifted his hips to make access somewhat easier, as Sendak bunched some stray items of clothing to place underneath, and – with a makeshift pillow under his hips and head – he finally felt comfortable. The finger traced patterns around the rim, before it slowly pressed inside, and Shiro drew in a deep breath to fight away the momentary discomfort. He pushed against the digit to make for easier entry.

“Let me see whether I can make this easier for you,” teased Sendak.

Sendak turned his hand around, so palm face upward, and then began to coax his finger into a ‘come here’ gesture, until he struck that familiar spot inside Shiro. Shiro gave a silent cry, as he let go of his ankles and grasped at the ‘pillow’, and – as he struggled to catch his breath – Sendak continually massaged against his prostate with great expertise. The pleasure was so intense that Shiro was pulling at his clothes enough to nearly tear them.

He began to grow hard, when another finger was pushed alongside the first. There was enough oil and pleasure for him to accommodate it with ease, even as Sendak began to scissor them and manoeuvre them with a soft chuckle, and soon Shiro was fully erect. It was rare to become hard so quickly after orgasm, but Sendak knew how to work him until he was driven crazy with arousal. He soon thrust down on those fingers, wishing for that hot mouth over his cock, as he was pleasured until the heights of rapture.

“I – I think that’s enough,” hissed Shiro.

“Nonsense, you need at least two more,” said Sendak.

There soon came another finger. The stretch was hard to ignore; it caused a sharp stab of discomfort, as Shiro gave a hiss and moved his hips out of instinct, and the small pain merged with the pleasure into an odd mixture. It took a long minute for the ache to subside, as it was soothed away by the constant pressure upon his prostate. Shiro swallowed hard and waited for the less pleasurable feelings to pass. He wanted more, but he feared the pain that would come from a member so wide as his lover’s, so that anticipation soon became fear.

“Is this – is this going to work?”

“If you can take four fingers, you could likely take a fist,” observed Sendak. “If you can take a fist, you could take my member without any problems in the least. We simply need to take things slowly. I thought you would appreciate that, being so foolishly sentimental as your kind often appears. By the time I penetrate you, you will be _writhing_ in ecstasy.”

“You – You aren’t seriously going to fist me, Sendak!” Shiro gave a cry, as a fourth finger was slid into his hole. “I – I haven’t ever – you think I’ve had more than – look, it-it’s not going to fit and I’m going to – to – to – _fuck, right there_!”

Shiro felt a finger massage circles around his prostate. It drove him slowly insane, as he thrust down upon the fingers inside him, and – unable to hold back any longer – he let one hand move down to his nipple to tweak and flick upon the nub. He allowed his other hand to come to his mouth, where he licked and sucked upon his two fingers out of a need to just do _something_ , and he knew that the display would drive Sendak close to breaking point. The older man was already groaning at the sight, with teeth bared in dominance.

He heard a noise like water pouring, something barely recognisable over his arousal, and then felt liquid – likely oil from the texture and smell – poured over his penis, testicles and stretched hole. It should have alerted him to Sendak’s actions, but he could hear or understand nothing beyond his constant cries and moans. He didn’t notice at first, as that hand was slid inside to the wrist, but he soon noticed when it was clenched into a fist.

Shiro gave a cry of discomfort and panic.

The fist stretched him to his limit, while his erection began to flag. Sendak placed a free hand upon his stomach, keeping him pressed down and in place, while his mouth came to encircle Shiro’s length and worked it with a great deal of skill. Shiro moved his hands back towards his makeshift pillow, where he drew in deep breaths and gripped hard upon the fabrics, desperate to try and ride out the pain and strange sensations, as he tried to focus on the pleasure. It was difficult to accommodate the fist.

“This –” Shiro felt his eyes water “– is the first and last time.”

“Duly noted,” said Sendak.

It took a long time to adjust. Shiro estimated at least five minutes, but time seemed to stretch on beyond and was hard to judge, and – as he eventually felt relaxed enough to accommodate the intrusion – he found that the pleasure returned. It was surprisingly easy to maintain his arousal; Sendak was truly an expert regarding oral sex, while he constantly pressed against his prostate with gentle jabs, and his free hand took the place of Shiro’s to play with his nipples and trace patterns over his flesh. It felt good.

Shiro felt oddly bereft when the hand was removed; he felt loose, with a strange chill from the air that struck him, and the furs stuck to his skin with sweat. The oils would stain the furs and stray clothes. He knew his erection stood firm and proud, with tip upon his stomach and foreskin covered in rich saliva, and he longed for it to be touched and stroked, as he looked at Sendak with dilated eyes and flushed cheeks. He was ready for more . . . ready to be taken.

“Is this going to hurt?” Shiro asked.

“No, it should be painless.” Sendak positioned himself at the entrance. “The spikes are made from muscle, not from bone or any such substance. Their intent is to cause more pleasure and even induce ovulation, but that only applies for Galra biology. You are human . . .”

“Okay. Will you stop if it does become painful?”

“Always, Takashi. Always.”

Sendak pushed in with great patience. It felt almost natural at first, simply a far larger girth than any human could possess, and Shiro was given ample time to catch his breath. Sendak paused inside him, even as he leaked considerable pre-come, and leaned down to wrap two muscular arms under his back, where he began to press kisses to Shiro’s neck. It was an oddly intimate gesture, one that Sendak often neglected, but it was a great reassurance.

It felt good to be filled to the brink; they were so close and locked together in the most personal of ways, so that Shiro could feel the heartbeat of his lover against him, and he was able to wrap his arms around Sendak for comfort, letting fingers wrap into the long fur. He instinctively clenched around the member, seeking for friction and pressure, and Sendak breathed deep against his ear, giving characteristic groans that were painful when so close to his ears. Shiro let out a few choked gasps, as he wrapped his legs around that waist.

The gesture was a difficult one. It required stretching his legs to fit the wide frame, but he soon hooked his ankles together over the small of his lover’s back, using the position as leverage to thrust even deeper against Sendak. Sendak took that as a sign to continue; he pulled back with long and careful movements, which caused Shiro to feel the barbs for the first time, causing him to curse loudly at the strange and amazing sensations.

“Holy fuck, that’s good,” he muttered.

Sendak gave a low laugh in response. They continued to hold one another, as Sendak slid back inside, and Shiro – giving a mournful cry as he lost the sensation – realised that the barbs provided the most fantastic friction he could imagine. It brought forth images of sexual toys with beads over the outside, except this was more intense and seemed to enhance the sensations for Sendak in turn. The Galra looked unlike anything ever seen before, with an expression of sheer bliss that was even unlike the face he wore during orgasm.

It was possible this kind of penile stimulation was different for him, much like how an anal orgasm and oral orgasm always felt so different for Shiro, but this was something far deeper and far more intense, so that Sendak looked barely in control of himself. It took only a moment for him to thrust in earnest. He pounded hard and fast into Shiro, whose cries were punctuated by lost breath on every inward motion, and he struggled to hold onto his lover.

“You are mine, Champion,” snarled Sendak.

The friction was sheer perfection. Shiro felt a familiar building from within his body, as his legs strove to clench around his lover and his toes began to curl, and the sweat that broke over his skin – so impossibly hot, so overly sensitive – made it difficult to get a good grip upon Sendak. He felt his member pressed between them, as fur rubbed against the weeping head and swollen testicles, and he could feel himself growing close to the edge.

There was a squelching noise, as the sheer amount of oil provided a vast amount of help in Sendak’s exploration of his inside, while those large testicles struck with a rhythmic pattern against Shiro’s buttocks, so that the slapping noise echoed about the room. Sendak gave deep purrs between his snarls and cries, so deeply erotic that it pushed Shiro closer and close to orgasm, until – with one more thrust and one more bite – he came long and hard. The orgasm hit him quickly and with little warning, overtaking all his senses and making him weak.

He gripped tight enough that Sendak gave a cry of pain. Shiro arched his back until it felt on the brink of snapping in two, while his thigh muscles ached and seized up with the pressure, and he struggled to breathe through his silent cry of the climax. The pleasure ripped through him so that he felt every inch of his body alive, until the feeling died down, replaced by a warm wave of the afterglow. He fell back with a tired and sated smile.

“Sendak . . . that was . . .”

There was little warning when Sendak came. He held Shiro tightly against him, so much so that it became difficult to breathe, and thrust so deep inside that there came a strange sensation of pain, followed by something like needing to make waste. There was a flood of liquid inside him, none of which appeared to leak out in the slightest, and Shiro – as he felt Sendak give long body shudders and ear-piercing screams – relished in the hot feeling that filled him so completely from inside. Shiro licked his lips, before he kissed his lover.

It was a slow kiss, one filled with passion and respect, but one that also hinted at something far deeper than just arousal and a tentative friendship. Shiro would never question it further. He knew that Sendak would hate even so much as the insinuation of ‘love’, but – as Shiro tried to gently remove the now flaccid penis from his hole – Sendak growled and held him down with clawed fingers, until Shiro was forced to still with a sigh.

“My kind . . . creates a knot . . .”

“A what?” Shiro asked.

“A knot,” repeated Sendak. “It does not occur during usual sexual stimulation, but it is solely triggered by certain scents and sensations that occur during intercourse. We will be locked together for approximately twenty to forty minutes, as the knot facilitates in preventing seed from leaking away . . . my body does not know that you are incapable of conception.”

“You -! You’re such a bastard, Sendak.” Shiro let his legs stretch out with a groan. “You knew this would happen. You _had_ to have known. Is this why you wanted me to go second? You wanted an excuse for us to be locked together, so we have longer together?”

“I would gladly take every extra second I can force from them.”

“Oddly romantic for a Galra gladiator,” teased Shiro.

Sendak rolled them over. He was prone upon the stone of the bed, while he reached over to pull the furs over Shiro’s exposed body, created a soft place for Shiro to lie and warmth over his body for protection against the cold. It was good to be locked with Sendak, especially as he listened to his heartbeat and felt the come and sweat-soaked fur beneath his hands, and – as Sendak gave a deep purring sound – he could feel the vibrations through his chest. It was difficult to envision a future without these touches, without these small comforts.

“We have time while the knot deflates,” said Sendak. “Let us plan –”

“I know the plan. I’d rather just enjoy the moment with you.”

Sendak said nothing, but gave a huff of acknowledgement. Those padded fingers traced patterns along his back, while the fingers with claws occasionally tickled and teased him, and the intimacy and quiet was enough to lull Shiro into a soft sleep. He knew that their final battle would bring only pain and promotion, perhaps escape should things go exactly to plan, but that would put them on two different sides and likely to never meet again.

The last words Shiro ever heard, as sleep finally consumed him, were:

“I will always cherish these moments, Champion.”


End file.
